


we threw caution to the wind, our regrets in the fire (and our hearts became galaxies)

by RyeFo



Series: shadyside scrapbook [2]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Kiss, Gen, Holding Hands, Implied ambi, Love Confessions, M/M, i will never be over t.j's name being fucking thelonius jagger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-23 00:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeFo/pseuds/RyeFo
Summary: what do you call the time of year when spring makes blisters on your skin? or when summer is on the cusp of allowing hoodie weather? or when friendship and romance blur the lines, and you're left reeling from the euphoria of 'first' and the rush of 'never stopping'?Or, 5 times T.J Kippen and Cyrus Goodman didn't put labels on their fledgling relationship, and the one time they did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The finale almost made me cry. I wish I'd had something like this as a kid, so for all you teenagers/kids out there: cherish this. We really have come a long way.

_Dusk (#1)_

-

Firelight embers had kissed their joined hands when the question of _'is there something you want to tell me?'_ left hung in the air like humidity. It danced on their tongues, played around like fireflies with the flames, but ultimately left unsaid when Cyrus squeezed T.J's hand back. 

And now, on this summer night, those hands remained clasped ever-still. 

"So, Andi's going to some posh art school?" T.J quirks a brow at Cyrus as he nodded, squeezing his hand. "Are you feeling alright about that?"

"I could come up with something needlessly dramatic to hide my actual feelings on the matter, but..." He heaves a sigh from his conscience, before holding their joined hands up. "At this point I don't think _hiding_ and _you_ are two things that can exist together in my life."

He can't help but delight himself in the small blush that rises to T.J's cheeks, though his mood turns as his voice goes quieter. "I don't _know_ how to feel about it."

"That's alright." T.J looks back ahead. "No point in rushing to figure it out."

"Yeah. That's right." Cyrus nods. "Maturity. Yeah, I can do that."

He pretends to not hear as T.J counts under his breath, and he can't hold in the words anymore.

" _But it's just!"_ He stops the walk, biting his lip. "I can't help but feel like this is _it!"_

"It...?"

"Yeah, _it!"_ A car goes past; he sees their reflection and joined hands and his mind buzzes, but the anxiety never waited for anyone's romance _._ "Like, Andi and you are off to a different high-schools, Jonah's oblivious to everything, Buffy's going to end up being this big, hotshot basketball player—"

"Which I _also am._ "

"Not the point I'm trying to make, T.J!" Cyrus' cheeks puff up before he deflates. Almost like he's wilting. "You _know_ Buffy. She's amazing. She's going to go on and get scholarships to who-knows-where, make new friends that can challenge her, and go so far. And me...?"

Cyrus hangs his head. "I can't even shoot a hoop. How can I catch up to _that_?"

There's a faint pause for a moment. Cyrus can hear the crickets in the overgrowth, can feel the night air cooling down. This isn't the fire outside of Andi's house, there's no heartbeat thrumming in his ear, and his words aren't double-meanings. He's just a boy with sweaty palms holding hands with T.J Kippen, anxiety creeping up his spine and into his throat, and afraid to open his mouth for fear of sounding out his problems again. He swallows hard and stays quiet. 

"Alright. Time for a rain-check." Cyrus shoots his head up as T.J pulls him over to a nearby wall, taking a seat next to him when T.J does. 

"Rain-check?"

"Well, maybe call it a _sanity_ check, Cy." Cyrus ignores the thrilling chill that runs down his arm and raises gooseflesh, and it becomes waves as T.J's thumb circles soothing patterns into his hand. "Alright. You breathing okay?"

"...Yeah?"

"Good man." Cyrus frowns at the pun, but T.J puts his other hand on Cyrus' shoulder and looks him in the eye. "Okay, let's start this over. We _all_ know Driscoll is too stubborn to let you forget her, let alone _leave each other's lives._ She's going to be the glue—hair gel?—holding your friendship group together." Try as he might, Cyrus knew T.J couldn't fight that fond grin on his face when speaking about Buffy. "She'll never let you go."

Cyrus nods, words not working for him. 

"Also, Jonah? Yeah, he's oblivious. Scarily so. Meaning no matter what happens, you can just waltz up to him after any time apart and he'll probably just go, _'Oh, hey Cyrus. What, it's been four years? Oh, that's cool. How's the new book? Wait, you already finished it? Did it become the third best-seller internationally for 2022? That's cool.'_ " T.J shook his head. "Nothing will change with him either."

As much as Cyrus platonically loves Jonah, he has to admit that T.J has a point about the boy.

"Andi isn't going to forget you either, Cyrus. Yeah, she got into some big, fancy art school that isn't the same as your high-school, but I'm pretty sure you and Buffy _were_ her inspiration for half of that stuff in her shack. So, it's no wonder she says you two were the reason for getting her in there."

T.J swallows something lodged in his throat and links their fingers together. "And..." He releases a nervous laugh. "I mean, if you think I could _ever_ forget you after what's happened tonight, then I'm sorry, but _you're_ the oblivious one." T.J, with red dusting his cheeks, looks away. "I'll never let you go... unless you want me to, of course."

"Never." 

The quickness of Cyrus' reply dawns on both boys instantly, and there's another nervous (albeit giddy) pause. 

"Then, that's that. Nobody's forgetting anyone. Nobody's leaving anyone behind." T.J hesitates for a moment (Cyrus feels his hands twitch), before letting go of Cyrus' hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead. "Even if you can't shoot a hoop or catch up to us, who says we won't be waiting for you or holding your hand so you can come with us?"

Cyrus hides his face in T.J's shoulder—his face has got to be _scarlet_ by now—and smiles. "When did you get so good at cheering people up?"

He hears T.J laugh softly, rubbing his shoulder. "Must be a good influence."

And there they are. Just two boys sitting on a wall, practically cuddling under a summer night sky. Maybe there are fireflies somewhere to make it peak romance, but Cyrus supposes that flickering streetlights and winking starlight will have to do for now. It gives off a cute, if somewhat creepy, illusion. T.J is warm, here, and not only putting up with his dramatic anxieties but embracing them and talking it through with him. 

And something in his heart just _warms_ from that.

"Hey," Cyrus lifts his head, T.J meets his gaze with so much fondness in his eyes it makes Cyrus dizzy. "You never did tell me - what high school _are_ you going to?"

T.J uses his other arm to rub the back of his head. "I never thought I'd get into it. I just applied when my Mom and Uncle showed me the application page."

"Wait - you _applied_ for one?" Cyrus sits up, his eyes lifting with his smile. "Well done on getting in! Where is it?"

"Well..." T.J's lips go into a shy smile. "I applied to a place called SAVA. I think they liked my music submission video that I've been putting together. They do visual arts mainly, but there _is_ a music department. The feedback said they liked my piano work, and they do help people with dyscalculia for the normal classes of Math, so..." T.J frowns at the lack of an answer. "Why are you gaping at me?" Something in him gets shyer. "I-Is it that surprising I got into a place like that?"

"Wh- _no!"_ Cyrus puts both hands on T.J's shoulders and stands up, bouncing on his feet. "T.J, that's where _Andi's_ going!"

T.J's eyes widen. "You're _joshing_ me."

"No!" Cyrus' eyes practically sparkle. "No, I most certainly am _not_ joshing you!" Cyrus takes his hands away to run through his hair, smile widening as he bounces on his toes. "This is great! I could have twice the excuse to visit! We could all go to your events and everything!"

He clenches his fists and returns T.J's bemused grin with an ecstatic one. "This is amazing! My best friend and my—"

He stops dead.

"My..."

T.J gets up, puts a hand on Cyrus' shoulder. "You okay?"

"I..." Cyrus struggles to find the words. "I don't know what to call you now."

"Do you..." T.J wets his lips with his tongue and folds his arms. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"I don't..." He trails off. Hesitates. Tries to find the right words to say. "So much has happened tonight, with Andi and us and everything. And don't get me wrong, I-I'm really happy at how everything's turning out, I don't think I've ever been happier, b-but I'm also worried about a few things, and I can't just bottle them in, so I just need some time to figure out some stuff. It's not you, it's just, I... is that..."

As he trails off again, he manages to look at T.J, and he stops. That beautiful smile is back. The fondness in his gorgeous eyes has returned. He says, "it's okay, Cyrus," and Cyrus believes him. 

"It's okay." Cyrus parrots back, only more assured when T.J nods at him. 

"Yeah, it is."

Cyrus exhales, relief washing over him. 

"But you know what's _more_ than okay?" T.J perks up at that, folding his arms and grinning. That's when Cyrus knows he's caught him, hook, line, and sinker. "The fact that _Thelonius Jagger_ got into a _music program_ at an art school! Were your parents predicting the future, I wonder?" 

"Oh, you are _dead."_

T.J doesn't hold back, jumping off of his own feet and sprinting after Cyrus; he doesn't stop when Cyrus laughs, then yelps as he picks him up under his arms; and he _certainly_ doesn't stop when the two dissolve into giggles, and he hugs Cyrus close and spins him around like there's no tomorrow left.

* * *

_Pledge (#2)_

_-_

"So, Theodore Jimbob. A question for you." T.J casts his glare over to Reed, legs swinging over the edge of the bridge. "Whag happened to that Kira girl you'd been hanging with? Word on the street was that she was quite the catch."

 _Kira._ Just the name alone brought made his stomach flip in disgust. 

It must've come through stronger than he thought because his words came out in a sneer as his nose wrinkles. "First, we weren't ever like that," even the thought gave him the shudders. "And second, she turned out to be little less than human garbage baked out in the sun for too long."

"Damn," Reed said, wincing. "May have been a catch, but not even the Kipper was interested in her? That bad?"

"Can you _stop_ with the fish jokes."

"We're _literally fishing,_ Timothy Jenkins." True to his word, Reed reels in his rod and sighs at the result. "More pondweed? Damn, they aren't biting today." He grabs the hook and puts more bait before tossing his line back out. "So, she was that bad?"

"Mm." T.J sighs, shoulders going lax. "She wasn't that bad when we were hanging out. She could be really funny. I just thought, maybe, the reason she was bitter around everyone else was that she was like how I used to be. Hell, I understand the feeling of being upstaged by Buffy. So I thought that, maybe, she needed..."

"A _Cyrus?_ "

"A _friend._ "

"So, a _Cyrus._ " 

T.J glares again, lips curling into a pout, before looking back over the water. "Her biggest problem _was_ with Cyrus." T.J massages his temples, the headache returning. "I didn't notice at first, but she was always treating him really... curtly? I don't want to say rude, but she was always impatient with him. Little digs I didn't notice until I really thought about it."

Reed just raises a brow. "So you told her to shove it?"

"That's the thing, I _didn't._ " T.J pulls in his line and notices a small fish wiggling at the bottom. "She forced me to pick between her and Cyrus."

" _Damn._ That's dumb."

T.J ignores him, putting the fish in the bucket and throwing his line back out. "Cyrus never made me pick. So, it was obvious. She walked away when she realized it was a lost cause."

Reed whistles, glancing at the fish T.J put in the bucket. "Did you call the police on that? Because it's a crime to try and pry between you and Cyrus."

"I only reserved that for idiots like you."

"For which I thanked you for." Reed propped up his leg and rested his elbow on his knee. "Without that, wouldn't have met Marla."

"Yeah, yeah..." As cute as it was that Reed wouldn't _shut up_ about his new lady friend, it could start to grate after a while. "I already know you met because she helped you pull a bicycle from a river and you swooned over her toned arms."

" _One-handed,_ Tyronius Jackson!" 

"Are you _ever_ going to stop trying to guess my name."

"Until you give it up." Reed grinned. "Or maybe I can just get _Cyrus_ to tell me?"

T.J went silent.

"Wait. Does he actually _know_ it?" T.J's cheeks flared, making Reed's jaw drop. "Are you for _real?_ I know you for _seven years_ and you don't give it up, but when Cyrus asks— _dude!_ You tell him just like _that?"_

"Not... just like that," T.J mumbles, going for his fishing rod. "I didn't tell him... right away."

"Oh, so he just batted his eyelashes at you when you refused at first?" Reed interjected T.J's hand when he reached for the fishing rod. "Nuh-uh, dude, you aren't getting out of this one."

"I-It doesn't matter. It's just a name." 

"A name you've not told anyone outside of your rents, grandparents, and cousin. That you've kept tight-lipped about for _seven years_ around me and Lester." Reed let go, shaking his head and laughing. "Man, Teej, you are _whipped_ for this guy."

T.J's throat suddenly went dry. " _Whipped?"_

Reed carries on, almost oblivious to how pale T.J is becoming. "Whipped, gay for, I don't know. It's semantics. Either way, he's made you soft as hell when it comes to him—" When he finally looks over at T.J, Reed stops, lowering his fishing rod to his side. "...Hey, you okay dude?"

"F-Fine." T.J rasps out, biting his lip.

"Don't try that shit on me, I know when you bottle stuff up." Reed pauses for a second, before flinching. "Wait, shit, dude, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable—I know people can tease about that shit, but I didn't mean to make you feel... fuck. I can shut up if you want me to—"

"Would it bother you?"

Reed's eyes widen. " _Bother_ me?"

"If...if I was."

His line finally starts tugging, but Reed ignores it. All he does is stare at his best friend of seven years as he stares straight ahead, gripping the fishing pole until his trembling knuckles turn white. See, T.J knows Reed isn't a serious guy. He thought guns were toys and people were jokes, that the best way to tackle serious problems was to joke about it so much it became funny instead of real. It's how he helped T.J cope with his disapproving grandparents, and how Reed coped with a father who didn't pay attention.

A class-clown, through and through. Didn't even throw a punch when T.J called the police on him. 

"Shit, dude. Of _course,_ it doesn't matter. It's six and a half dozen to me." Reed rubs the back of his neck. "I don't... I know this is hard for people? I don't know what else to say."

That's the most serious T.J has ever seen Reed. He almost looks _bashful._

"Did you know?"

"I... _maybe_ figured something was going on with you and Cyrus."

"Am I _that_ obvious?"

"Hate to say it dude, but... yeah! To me you were." Reed pauses, wracking his brain. "Wait, so back then - does that mean that you and Cyrus were already an _actual_ thing?"

"What? _No."_ T.J let go of the fishing rod and put his hands back down by his sides. "I mean..." He considers it. "It was developing?"

"And now?"

T.J manages a smile. "We're figuring it out. Taking it slow, I guess."

"So he _does_ like you?!" Reed threw his arm around T.J. "I fucking _knew_ it! Nobody could resist _this_ face!" He pinches T.J's flushing cheek, laughing as he messes up his hair. "Did you make the first move? Nah, I can't believe that for a second, you're chicken shit, but—aww, Teej!"

"Cut it out, Reed! I—yes, _yes,_ he likes me back, but we aren't—oh, jeez, _quit it!"_

Reed wipes a tear from his eye. "My Tyrell Jamonthy, all grown up and getting married... thank _fuck_ for Obama."

* * *

_Lemon Tree (#3)_

_-_

"Alright, this one's tied up! Toss the next banner string!"

One positive thing that could be said about _Shadyside_ was it's comparability to the name; miles of forests and orchards bordered the town, and none were more famous than the orchard of lemon trees that sat on the corner of the huge yard of common field. Though the grass was usually towering above even the tallest of fifteen-year-olds, some local farmer had recently been permitted to mow it as fodder for his livestock, and now the field was practically barren. 

Thus, local community groups in the area clustered to the open field, and once planning permission was acquired, had decided to throw a small fayre to celebrate some contrived reason for a celebration that, honestly, Amber couldn't bother to remember. 

It did mean that she and her friends got the chance to help prepare for the festivities, and much to anyone's lack of surprise, Buffy had volunteered to climb _all_ the trees to tie up the banners. Since her foot had healed, she refused to listen to the meaning of the word _restraint._

"Okay, get ready!" Amber tossed up the string, with Buffy catching it in her hand with a triumphant grin. "Alright, Driscoll. Don't get cocky. There are still 13 trees to go, yet."

"Ugh, you sound like _T.J,_ " Buffy mutters under her breath, though with no real malice. 

"That is the most insulting thing I've ever been told in my life."

Buffy rolls her eyes, hopping down from the branches and swiping the water bottle that Amber holds out for her. "Thanks." After taking a swig, she gestures to the rest of the orchard. "So, most of this is almost finished. Think we'll make it by tonight?"

"Hm." Amber put her hands on her hips and looks around. "Well, the adults have the stalls all set up, and we're getting the hot-food trucks in later today. Anything leftover can be done in the morning before we open up."

"Great!" Buffy flops down onto the grass, fanning her face with her hand. "Then I'm taking five."

"What happened to _not holding back?_ " Amber teases, sitting beside her and grabbing her water bottle. 

"Even masters need water, Amber."

"True, true." She nods, before pulling out a small plastic bag. "What about lemon tarts?"

" _Gimme."_

For a while between the two girls, there was a comfortable silence as they watch the world go by. Students mingling from different schools; Andi making banners with Walker and grinning at Amber's approval when she shot a thumbs up; Jonah testing the surround sound with Bowie on-stage and waving at Buffy. But Amber's focus lay more on the scenery in front of her, on birds and bugs chasing sunlight. 

Buffy, part-way through her seventh tart, took a moment to say something. "So... I heard you quit your job at the Spoon?"

Amber ran a hand through her hair. "Last week, yeah."

"No wonder Cyrus was panicked when you weren't on shift."

"That boy worries too much." She sets her bottle down in her lap, looking at Buffy with a small smile. "My Dad got another job, said I didn't need to work there anymore. With studies and everyone going to high school now, it... just seemed like the most opportune time." 

"That's great, Amber." Buffy took another bite, before continuing. "Where's he working now?"

"With my Uncle. He's helping run his music shop."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. My Uncle's the one who's lending all the surround-sound equipment to the fayre. Says it's _'about time someone provided quality sounds to Shadyside_ ', or whatever that means." Amber stops, tilting her head. "What's... with the frown?"

"I just thought... isn't T.J's Dad the one doing all of that?"

Amber's eyes widen. "Wait, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Buffy..." Amber hid her smile behind her hand. "T.J's my _cousin._ "

Few could say they had successfully left Buffy at a loss for words. Marty was the most recent example of it, until now, and you could count on one hand the number of times Buffy would (readily) admit to it. 

Amber waves a hand in front of her face. "Uh, Buffy? Earth to Buffy. Are you alright?"

"He's your _WHAT?!"_

Amber practically jumps out of her skin at Buffy's outburst, falling back onto her hands as the infamous Driscoll Rants begin.

"How—how the hell did _nobody_ tell me about this? God, this makes so much sense now! How you and T.J never even spoke and then all of a sudden he's teasing you like your old friends, why you two look _freakishly similar,_ and how nobody knew your last name—"

"It's _Brown,_ and that's an insult."

"—is beyond me! Why didn't you tell anyone?"

By the time Buffy's finished, Amber is practically backed up against the tree in fear. _People weren't kidding about the warnings not to rile her up. She is **terrifying.**_

Once the dust settles, she relaxes a little, folding her arms and raising a brow. "I didn't think I _had_ to. You go to the same school as him _and_ my ex-boyfriend."

"Wait, Jonah knows?"

"Duh."

Buffy massages her temples, closing her eyes. "This is something I never expected. My brain feels like someone's tossed it in a blender." She grimaces. "And I knew something _after_ Jonah? How is that even possible?!"

"I guess you're losing your touch, Driscoll. It's all the honeymoon phase, puppy-love that's making your eyes rose-tinted."

"Oh, _shut up._ " Try as she might, Amber sees the small blush forming on Buffy's dark cheeks; the smile threatening to ruin her otherwise placid face. "I'm not that bad."

She's been there before; entering into a relationship after relationship for the budding confidence and butterflies it gives someone when you first realize, hey, _I cherish this person._ She became drunk off of it, addicted to it, and is now learning you can get that euphoria beyond romance. Amber learns it when T.J drags her out of bed at four in the morning to see the sunrise and snack on cakes; experiences it when Buffy teaches her how to throw a hoop, and she to dance so she can surprise Marty; cherishes it when Cyrus makes her a photo-reel of all their times together to apologize for being caught in the middle of her romantic drama, comforting her when she cries of joy; appreciates it when Jonah hugs her and says, _"We both made mistakes, and I'm not in love with you anymore, but I'm always here for you._ _"_

Amber feels it when Andi takes her arm, walks with her down the beach promenade, and draws her as she sits on the boardwalk looking at the sunset. She feels so, so much with Andi, the myriad of colours on that canvas page may as well be her heart. 

Amber knows she's learning love without romance. Buffy's learning the opposite, and that's beautiful in its way. 

"Well, there's people more obvious than you, if it helps."

Buffy's frown fades, and she smiles. "You noticed too, huh."

"It's impossible not to. You will not _believe_ how much T.J talks about him."

"Same with Cyrus."

Over on the other side of the orchard, Cyrus sits as T.J fixes up his keytar, chattering away about something. From an outsider's perspective, it looks relatively harmless, maybe platonic. That's ignoring the little tell-tale signs of people not quite ready to reveal to the world that they love, yet bubble over from holding it in.

They're both surrounded in an orchard of lemon trees and fairy lights, people and activity, yet they have eyes only for one another. 

"Do you know if... they're together yet?" Buffy asks, thought the fondness creeps into her voice. 

"I asked T.J about it." Amber began wrapping up the leftover lemon tarts. "He says, right now, they're happy as they are."

Buffy sighs, leaning back on her hands. "I suppose that's all we can ask for." She turns to Amber. "What about you?"

"Oh?"

"Is there anyone you like right now?"

Amber smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I don't know. But I don't think I need to rush into anything right now, you know?"

"Taking your time?" Buffy smiles right back at her. "I can respect that." 

"I got Driscoll's respect before T.J? He owes me $20." 

"Very funny, Amber. You'd better spend some of that treating me to a milkshake." Amber nods, only grinning wider. Buffy then jumps up with a start, dusting off her knees and holding a hand out for Amber to take. "Well, come on then, that's enough lazing around for one afternoon. We've got work to do." Buffy winks at her. "I mean, these banners aren't exactly going to hang themselves up, are they?"

Amber grabs Buffy's hand and rises to her feet, and only has a small pout on her face when Buffy tells her _she's_ going to be the one climbing the next tree.

* * *

_Trail (#4)_

_-_

_"Okay, so this,"_ Cyrus signs, pointing to the small alert system by the radio. _"This detects both car horns and sirens, and the colour changes depending on the type of sound. Blue for police sirens, green for ambulances, red for normal car horns. Do you understand?"_

Libby slowly turns her head as she clutches the steering wheel, raising a brow and pouting. _"This is the seventh time you've said."_ She signs, slowly so he understands. _"This will not kill you."_

Cyrus purses his lips, setting his hands down in his lap as he goes rigid—

Before _yelping_ at the sensation of his _ear_ being tugged. 

"Hey, Libby!" He says aloud, before frowning at her. _"What was that for?"_ He signs again. 

_"Stop worrying._ " Libby smiles at him, pointing to the steering wheel. _"I've practiced."_

Cyrus nods, swallowing down any remaining hesitation. "Right. Yeah, totally." He does another stiff nod. _"Sorry."_

Libby merely points to his seatbelt, indicating he needs to buckle up. Once he's done so, she turns the key in the ignition and puts her foot on the pedal. 

And, true to her word, Libby _has_ practiced. 

He wasn't sure what he was doing when he volunteered to help Libby with learning to drive; his Aunt had a large, private field that his cousins had used for practicing driving before, and with how nervous Libby had been about her upcoming test, it just seemed the best option. He'd even practiced his sign language for three weeks with Andi beforehand, researched all he could about deaf driving.

But seeing her now, confidently making turns around the bend and using the alert systems put into place by the local community to assist her with driving, Cyrus began wondering why he was worrying so much. 

He does that a lot, Cyrus realizes. Worries about everything. 

When Libby stops the car (the parking is a little wonky, scuffing the curb a tad, but that's nothing a bit more practice can't fix), she leans back in her seat and sighs. There's a happily-dazed look in her eyes as if she's dreaming whilst being wide-awake, and a smile stretches to her cheeks and lifts her eyes.

She lazily turns her head to Cyrus, who offers her a thumbs up when no words flow to his hands. 

_"Good?"_ She signs. 

He returns that grin. _"Better."_ She sits up a little, and tears spring to her eyes when he signs, _"fearless."_

After the moment passes them by, Libby gets the idea to lie on the hood of the car and look at the stars. She uses her hoodie as a pillow, stretches until the glassy window is a cushion, and invites Cyrus to join her. Instead of laying down, he simply perches on the hood of the car, admiring the canopy of galaxies drenched in remaining sunset that wink overhead at them. The wind tickles the back of his neck, whistling something in his ears. Libby feels the whispers trail up her arm, and in her own, way, manages to understand what the evening breeze is saying to her.

Something pops in his head.

He softly taps Libby on her shoulder. She doesn't lift her head, but does turn to look at him, and waits patiently.

_"I'm gay."_

Her eyes widen a little.

_"I'm in love with T.J."_

She stays in a limbo of shock before her face settles back into that little soft smile that, in another world, he may have swooned over. But his heart is in the hands of another, and this world is not for them. For now, he just thinks Libby's smile is beautiful. 

_"Fearless."_

Libby then takes his hands and sits up, squeezing them softly, and bumps her forehead against his. 

* * *

_Oh,_ _Brother mine. (#5)_

-

"Okay, well, what about _this_ one?"

"That's... cool, too."

" _Jonah,_ you can't say _that's cool_ to every single option!"

Jonah watches, bemused as Walker throws another colour swatch down onto his bedroom floor _._ He's not entirely sure why Walker asked for _his_ opinion on anything creative; as much as he loves both Walker and Andi and their shared crazy passion for art, being the central deciding opinion on something, especially creative and artsy, isn't exactly his forte. He much rather prefers to sit on the sidelines and be a supporting beam for his friend's crazy shenanigans. 

"Look, man, I'm sorry. Why didn't you just ask Andi about this stuff?"

Walker sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is kind of a surprise _for_ Andi."

Jonah shifts on the chair, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "For what?"

"Well, I..." Walker taps his foot. "Look, she hasn't told anyone yet, but she's managed to get a small art studio in one of the art centers. Apparently, they loan them out to students of SAVA who signed up to do community or charity work - which Andi's planning on doing. I know she was waiting to tell you all, but I wanted to surprise her with a small, well, mural?"

It took Jonah a moment. "Wait, is that why you've been trying to ask everyone's opinions on your art lately? Because you're trying to make sure it's like it's from all of us?"

"I am _not_ good at surprises, Jonah."

"Evidently. Well, maybe—"

A sudden ringing from his pocket causes Jonah to jump, fishing it out of his pocket to take a look at the contact number. "Huh, that's weird. T.J never calls me." He looks at Walker, pointing to his phone. "You mind if I take this quickly? It'll give you a sec' to gather your thoughts."

"Be my guest."

Jonah stood up and walks to the wall, leaning on it as he accepts the call. "Hey, Teej, what's up—"

_"WHAT DO I WEAR FOR A DATE."_

The loud voice _booming_ from his phone ends up with Jonah holding it a few centimeters away from his face. "Nice to talk to you too, T.J. Wanna repeat that _quieter?"_ Jonah shares a smile with Walker, who's hiding his grin behind his hand. 

_"Look, I know you've been on a lot of dates. What should I wear to one? I've been through **everything** I own and nothing's nice enough or clean enough—wait, what if they stink—I know they're clean out the laundry but what if that's putrid—should I have gotten another tide pod?!"_

"...T.J." Jonah dead-pans. "Is this about you taking Cyrus to the _library?_ "

_"Don't mock me, Beck. I need a list of things you do so I can avoid them!"_

"You're _really_ making me want to hang up right now, Teej." Jonah switches his phone to his other hand. "What's got you so riled up?"

 _"I..."_ He hears T.J sigh nervously, and it sounds like he's pacing. _"This is the first time we've been... alone since Andi's party. Like, alone, without friends acting as a buffer."_

"Alright." Jonah gestures to Walker's bed. Walker nods and moves over so Jonah can sit down. "Why is it so nerve-wracking to be alone with your boyfriend?"

 _'Boyfriend?'_ Walker mouths, eyes wide.

Jonah rolls his eyes, letting T.J carry on. _"He's—not my boyfriend. Yet. That's... kind of the issue I've got."_

"Why?"

_"Because I want to ask him soon. I don't know how to do that without screwing up."_

"T.J, sit down a second." Jonah switched his hands again, massaging his temples. "Look, you're taking Cyrus to the library. I doubt he's going to be paying much attention to what you're wearing, let alone the type of tide-pod you used. And even if he did, he looks at you like the sun shines literally out your ass. He'll probably make it his new favourite scent or something."

T.J coughs at that, but Jonah continues speaking. "Look, I don't think I'm the best person to ask about this. You know who is?"

_"Who?"_

_"Cyrus,_ dude. You two have always done it well by talking this stuff through. So, maybe... just tell him you're nervous about being alone with him again? It's Cyrus at the end of the day. He's not got a mean bone in his body. He'll understand."

 _"...Yeah, you're right."_ T.J exhales, breathing static down the phone. _"Thanks, dude."_

"No problem." Jonah gets a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, and Teej?"

_"Yeah?"_

"Cyrus _did_ say you looked cute in the camo hoodie."

_"Wait, WHAT—"_

Without shame, Jonah hangs up and puts his phone on silent, tossing it onto the bed, and leans back until his back is against the wall. 

"Wow. That was cold, Beck."

Jonah grins, raising a brow. "That's the third phone call this week. He's been really nervous about this."

"Damn. I don't know if I could put up with that."

"Eh," Jonah shrugs. "I don't mind. At least he's not bottling it up, right?"

"I suppose," Walker says. "I didn't even know Cyrus liked T.J back. I mean, I heard something about it from T.J when he was out with a mutual friend we have, but from how he described it I never would have thought it was reciprocated."

"They're getting there. That's all they can do."

Jonah then sits up more, gesturing to the art scraps still on the floor. "Maybe we should take the same advice - why don't you just ask Buffy and everyone else what they'd like to do, make it a joint project? They've probably all guessed about Andi's studio." Jonah shook his head, laughing. "I love my Andiman, but she _loves_ hinting about new things in her life."

"Sounds like a plan." 

* * *

_Luck (+1)_

_-_

"I _still_ can't believe you and Cyrus kept the fact that you were attending SAVA from me! For _the entire summer!"_

"What can I say?" T.J says, sauntering beside Andi. "I like surprises."

" _And_ you managed to get Amber and _Cyrus_ to keep it from me?" Andi narrows her eyes at him, before batting his arm playfully. "Do I have this to look forward to for the entire year with you as the one person I actually know in SAVA? You just keeping things from me and surprising me with it last minute?"

"Nah," T.J says, grinning impishly at her. "I plan to break into at least one art museum with you this year so we can have private viewings."

Andi stops. "I'm so platonically in love with you."

"Love you too, Andiman." 

So, maybe it had been T.J's idea to keep the fact he was attending SAVA from everyone else except Cyrus. And maybe it was also his idea to have him surprise Andi with it, causing Cyrus to remain so tight-lipped that the awful English accent made more than a few returns to distract from the fact that Cyrus _could not lie to his friends_ to save his life, let alone keep anything away from Andi Mack. To his credit, he did it.

The look on Andi's face when T.J had casually sat next to her in the assembly hall and flicked her forehead was something he knew he would never forget. So far, not a bad start to the new year. Summer may be over, but for once, school being back in session wasn't met with anxiety pooling in his stomach. At the end of it, Andi wasn't a bad person to spend it with, either.

"How're you liking your courses?" T.J says, striking up another conversation.

"They're great!" Andi beams, clapping her hands together. Her eyes may as well have been shining. "There's art history for the academics, which isn't so bad, but there's also working with still-life, nature painting, and even learning to make our own painting materials and learning about colour theory and how to apply it and just—T.J, there's _so much_ to do here!"

T.J can't help it. Her grin is infectious enough to make his cheeks hurt. "I'll say. Never thought I'd be able to get access to so many _musical_ opportunities."

"Yeah, that's right! We're going to be in two separate blocks for two out of five days, right?" Andi's little grin turns impish. "Sure you can handle that, _Thelonius?"_

T.J's entire face turns red. "I can't _believe_ you saw my student card before I got it changed."

"Relax, it's a cool name!" 

"...Yeah?"

"It really is." Andi nods. "Even if I didn't think so, I've seen someone called _Uxorius Wigbert._ Trust me, your name is fine."

"...I feel _so_ sorry for that guy."

"Ditto, Teej."

T.J stuffs his hands into his pockets as he and Andi turn a corner, chatting through the various courses they have for that year. As much as he detests Math, having Andi in his class may be the only saving grace; she seems to return the sentiment when speaking of her disdain for physical education (though she seems somewhat interested in badminton, so maybe she's not a complete lost cause in competitive sports just yet).

It's when they reach their crossroads that Andi stops him.

"So, this is where I head."

He points behind him with his thumb. "I'm in the opposite. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Wait, just... hold on." She ruffles through her bag, snapping her fingers. "Hold out your wrist."

T.J eyes her for a moment but complies and holds his arm out for her. Once she finds whatever she was looking for her in her bag, she drops it to the floor and goes up to him—and it doesn't take him long to realize she's putting a _bracelet_ on his wrist. It's one of the wrap-around ones she made for Jonah back in the day, but if he recalls, Buffy and Cyrus have one too, and she's been working on one for Amber recently.

Once she's finished, she takes a step back. "Well?"

He holds it up. It's a green and black plaited chord, with a small muffin and basketball charm hanging from it. Not too conspicuous, and...

Oh, what the hell. He loves it. He's not even going to deny it.

"This is sweet, Andi. Really." He can't keep his eyes off of it. "But, why give me one...?"

"I, uh, may have heard you're planning on asking Cyrus to be _official?"_ He shoots his head up, cheeks flushing. "No, no, there are no rumors going around or anything! I just. May have been in the same room when you called Jonah up?"

_"What phone call."_

"...There were more than one?" 

T.J groans into his hands. 

"Hey," Andi walks up to him and takes his hands away from his face. "He's crazy about you. There's no need to be embarrassed. We're friends, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Then go ahead and get yourself a boyfriend!" She squeezes his hands. "So Buffy can finally be knocked down a peg."

"I mean, if it's to put _Driscoll_ in her place, how can I refuse?" He jokes, but his voice cracks on the last word.

Andi seems to notice, because she pulls him in for a hug not seconds later, rubbing his back. "You've got this, Teej. Nobody's going to knock you down. So that?" She points to the bracelet. "It's for luck." 

She then parts from the hug and takes a step back from him. "I heard Cyrus was down by the swings, by the way."

She picks up her bag. " _So go seize your chance."_

With that, she begins to run home, turning and waving him off. 

T.J watches her leave until she's but a little speck on the horizon turning a corner, and he's left alone with his thoughts, and a weight on his wrist that pulls him towards the park. He takes one last look at the bracelet, before putting his hand in his pocket, steeling his nerves, and beginning to walk.

(That's a lie: he _runs.)_

-

 **cy** 💞 (15:19)  
_can u come to the park  
_ _by the swings_

 **thelol jaggernaught (15:24)  
** _i'm on my way_

_-_

By the time he reaches the park, T.J nearly doubles-over from lack of oxygen. God, how long has he been _running_ for? He bends a little, hands on his knees as he takes deep breaths, sweat practically dripping off of his forehead as he wipes it with his sleeve. 

When he finally does catch his breath, he looks around: the park is practically deserted. 

"Cyrus?" He calls, walking around near the swings. "You still here, Underdog?"

There's no reply. 

T.J's brows furrow, hopping up on the slide to try and get a better look around. There are a few families near the pond feeding the ducks, a couple of kids on the roundabout looking green from the speed it's going, and a dog running away with some girl's icecream. 

No Cyrus, though. "Cyrus?" He runs around a little now. " _Cyrus?"_

He checks his phone after the last text - there's no update - so he just scratches his head in confusion.

"He told me to come here, where...?" 

With a resounding sigh, T.J makes his way back over to the swings, taking up his usual seat and letting the wind push him along. Maybe Cyrus got tired of waiting for him, or his parents called for him to come home early for something important. Either way, he _knows_ Cyrus wouldn't just lie and say he was somewhere he wasn't. That's not how he works. Never has been. 

It's... one of the reasons he loves him so much.

"Hey."

T.J nearly loses his grip on the chains as a familiar voice calls out softly. He turns his head back to see Cyrus standing there, holding something behind his back. 

"Hey," he rasps out. "I was looking for you."

Cyrus, at the very least, does blush at this. "Yeah, I know, I... had to get something before I saw you. A last-minute decision, really."

"You? _Last minute?"_

"Laugh it up, Thelonius Jagger."

T.J's bravado fizzles out into a shy flush at his full name, ducking his head down a little. "So, uh..." He points to Cyrus. "What're you hiding behind your back there? Did you find a lost puppy or something?"

"I think I'm the Underdog, not a lost puppy." He gets a little closer to T.J, who grips the swing chains harder. "It's nothing like that. I just wanted to get you these."

When Cyrus procures a small bouquet of pink carnations and red lilies, T.J feels like his heart has shot straight up through his rib-cage and into his brain. T.J accepts them with trembling hands as Cyrus gifts them to him, and feels his heart thrumming against his chest when Cyrus puts his hand on T.J's arm. 

"Nobody's ever given me flowers before." T.J chokes out, and he can _feel_ his face going pink. 

"...Really?" 

"Yeah."

"Well, then... I'm glad I was the first. Even if they were from the corner store and probably won't last more than a week—" Cyrus shakes his head. "Look, Teej, I know you've been waiting a while. I'm sorry I wasn't ready." He rubs the back of his neck. "Want to make it official with me? If... that's something you're still interested in?"

"Cyrus," T.J chokes out, wiping his eyes. "I was on my way here to ask _you_ that."

Cyrus' eyes widen. "Wait, is that a yes?"

"Of _course_ it's a yes, I just...oh, to hell with it." And then, T.J can't take it anymore. He places the bouquet down, looks at Cyrus for a fraction of a second, and sweeps him up into a hug that has Cyrus' feet lifted off the ground. He buries his face into Cyrus' neck, takes in his scent, and runs a hand through his gelled hair. "I adore you _so_ much it makes me crazy, but I'd have to be in a straight jacket to say no to you."

When Cyrus hugs him back, he can feel just how much Cyrus' heart is beating as well. "I adore you as well." He mumbles into T.J's neck, gripping onto his shirt. "You're being really sappy right now."

"Says the guy who got me _flowers._ "

"Yeah, well, that was because..." Cyrus begins playing with the soft hairs at the nape of T.J's neck, twirling it around his fingers. It takes a moment before either says anything, and T.J swears he can feel his heart burst when Cyrus says, "you really deserve it. I want you to feel like you're allowed to be swept you off your feet, too."

" _Dammit, Cyrus."_

What comes next, predictably, is a little cliched. 

Cyrus and T.J break away a little, seeing each other's faces close before their gazes flit down to each other's lips. They both know the non-verbal drill by now; there's hesitance, then slow inchings forward, until T.J makes a little noise at the back of his throat and Cyrus breathes through his nose a little too hard when their lips meet.

The kiss is soft, chaste; they break away, smile nervously, and rejoin lips, before one and two slow kisses become ten, twenty, thirty pecks in quick succession. Each kiss has T.J wrapping his arm around Cyrus' back a little tighter, Cyrus running his hand through T.J's hair until the gel is no more, and nervous breaths become giddy laughter as they both realize that, hey, ' _this is okay, and we can hold our breaths not out of fear, but because we don't want love to end so quickly.'_

When T.J finally breaks apart from Cyrus, when Cyrus finally has to catch his breath, all they can do is stare at each other's flushed cheeks and grin.

"That happened, right?" T.J asks, breathless.

"I think it did," Cyrus replies, holding a hand to his thrumming heart. 

"You asked me out."

"I did."

"I said _yes."_

"You also did that."

T.J puts a hand to his forehead, the other searching for Cyrus', and he just grins and laughs and blushes and becomes giddy all at once. He squeezes Cyrus' hand, interlaces their fingers at Cyrus' urging, and bites his lip shyly. "We just did that. That could become normal to us."

"Nah," Cyrus says with a smile. "I think it'll always be exciting."

"But it's _normal._ " 

"It is."

"Can I—" T.J's grin stretches across his face. "Can I walk you home like this today? Tomorrow? A-And the day after that?"

Cyrus squeezes his boyfriend's hand back, not daring to hide his own smile. "S-Sure."

Whatever breath T.J may have been holding, he exhales. It feels like that night beside the fire when they first held hands. When they first, without words, confirmed how they felt. It's warm, safe, whole, and Cyrus is _right there,_ not rejecting him, not hating him, but enveloping him, _loving_ him, holding his hand and walking through the park, like this is something he's always wanted to do.

Because... maybe, all along, T.J wanted that too.

And with Cyrus holding his hand, his lips still a little bruised, T.J swears his heart swells up like a galaxy ready to shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of little notes;
> 
> 1) Yes, the "joshing around" was a completely shameless reference to Cyrus' actor, Joshua Rush. He, as well as all the cast and crew of Andi Mack, deserve the world. Thanks for this series. It's been golden.  
> 2) Marla isn't a canonical character, but I thought if anyone could knock sense into Reed, it'd be a 6ft toned-af girl who cares about the environment and laughs at his bad jokes. He was assigned clean-up duty, she volunteered. He now goes back there every Sunday afternoon. (The bicycle stuck in the river is a reference to an event that happened in my favourite animation director's childhood, Hayou Miyazaki.)  
> 3) There's a deleted scene that refers to Amber's last name as being "Brown", but I still wanted there to be SOME familial connection between her and T.J. So, the cousins' theory was born.  
> 4) In another world, I would have totally shipped Libby and Cyrus. For now, they're just really good friends. ^_^  
> 5) WALKER. SHOULD. HAVE. STAYED. TAT So, in my head, he goes to SAVA with Andi and T.J and Libby, and is Andi's friend and just a general sweetheart. Also, a cut scene from this would have been Jonah asking Walker to make him an aro/ace/demi pin (I hadn't decided on what yet). I may add that in a little later. ^^


	2. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two deleted scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had a lot of ideas for this fic, and ultimately none made it to the final cut. So, I thought I'd write two original ideas I had, but ultimately didn't implement.

_Deleted Scene #1  
_Pledge (T.J comes out to Buffy)

-

"A name you've not told anyone outside of your rents, grandparents, and cousin. That you've kept tight-lipped about for _seven years_ around me and Lester." Reed lets go, shaking his head and laughing. "Man, Teej, you are _whipped_ for this guy."

T.J's throat suddenly went dry. " _Whipped?"_

Reed carries on, almost oblivious to how pale T.J is becoming. "Whipped, gay for, I don't know. It's semantics. Either way, he's made you soft as hell when it comes to him—" When he finally looks over at T.J, Reed stops, lowering his fishing rod to his side. "...Hey, you okay dude?"

"Fine." T.J rasps, and the familiar urge to duck for cover overtakes him. "Why don't you have my catches for the day?"

"Wait, what?" Reed looks over his shoulder as T.J suddenly stands. "Teej, what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Mom texted me. Gotta head home. She needs help with something." T.J points in a random direction, before grabs his coat and slings it over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I'll catch you later."

"Wait, Teej--she said you didn't have to go home until later! I didn't even see you look at your phone? How do you know she wants you back home now?" Reed shouts, all but abandoning his fishing rod as he calls after T.J. "Where are you going? T.J!"

Reed's questions fall on deaf ears. So do his pleas and concerns. The moment T.J turns the corner and go out of sight, his feet begin to feel like he's walking on hot coals; and before he knows it, they're carrying him away in a sprint that would make a 100m dash participant weep for its impeccable timing. 

-

It's not the swings he goes to, this time. 

He finds himself in the park, sure, but the swings are taken up by two kids who are chattering away about their biggest problems in life; some teacher being mean, some tiff that involves another girl stealing 'their' seat, and other little issues that won't be remembered in a week from now. He glances at them for a moment, just _wishing_ that was the bane of his very own existence before he finds somewhere else to go.

T.J isn't sure where he wants to go. He walks around with clammy fists and hunched shoulders, hands stuffed into his pockets as he walks around and tries to keep onlookers from prying, but being a _good_ person means he doesn't have that shield of _asshole_ radiating quite so brilliantly anymore. His mind reels, races; how did Reed pick up on it? Did anyone else notice? Is that the reason _she_ targeted him in the first place?

How many _other_ people know? 

Eventually, T.J makes it to the walls bordering the small basketball court in the park, leans on it, and slowly slides down. His buries his head in his hands and sighs, tapping his foot and biting his lip. 

Reed's already most likely called his Mom. 

Shit, _she_ doesn't even know yet. T.J feels his throat going dry, squeezing his eyes shut as his stomach flips and--

"...T.J? Is that you?"

His head shoots up. There, in all her pride and glory, Driscoll stands with a basketball in hand. Of _course,_ she'd be here practicing when he's having a fucking meltdown. Of _course,_ she would. Sure, Andi sniffs out trouble, and Cyrus coaxes it out gently, but Driscoll is a bloody magnet for it. 

"Shove off, Driscoll." He snaps, but he can tell from the way his voice breaks she isn't buying it. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

"Oh no, you don't." She sets the basketball down on the grass and sits in front of him. "You don't get to regress into _Asshole Kippen_ after months of work."

He purses his lips to stop himself from saying anything else he may regret to Buffy and turns his head away. He can feel his eyes stinging, runs a hand through his hair to distract himself. T.J doesn't even bother flinching when she places a hand on his shoulder.

"Do... you want me to call Cyrus?"

T.J's head shoots up. "Wh-why would you ask that?"

She holds her hands up, lifting it off of his shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean anything bad by it. He's just closer to you than I am. I thought he could maybe help with... whatever this funk is, better than I could."

"I don't _need_ help."

"Yeah, and I didn't have an injured ankle months ago. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me." Buffy pulls herself to sit a little closer to him. T.J doesn't bother to move, doesn't say anything in response to her little jab. "T.J, did something happen?"

T.J swallows something down, winces at the pain in his sandpaper throat. 

He and Buffy aren't what people would call 'close'. They practice on the court, banter over lunch afterward (he usually pays; she wins almost every time), and share a collective tight-knit group of friends. The history between them, whilst mostly over and reduced to jokes, he knows still weighs on her a little. The doubts that creep into her brain when she looks in the mirror sometimes, the slight hesitation he sees when she applied to be captain at the Grant. He knows some of that is on him, and whilst she doesn't say anything anymore, that will never go away no matter how 'good' he is now. 

He's not worthy of _anything_ regarding her, not after what he did. Certainly not her best friend.

Yet... here she is. Sitting with him right now. Wanting to make sure he's okay. Sometimes, he's not sure if Buffy knows how much her acceptance makes him want to cry.

"...Yeah." He finally says. It's more of a whisper. "Yeah, it did."

"Okay," she replies. "And I take it this is something Cyrus can't help with."

T.J freezes again, running a hand through his hair. "I'd be surprised if he didn't already know about it. I..." He swallows. "Buffy, do you ever feel weird?"

"Weird?" He can see her scrunch her nose up as she wracks her brain for answers. "I mean, I've been made to _feel_ weird about things I can't control." She points to her hair. "They tried banning my natural hair once. Am I along the right lines?"

Sometimes, he realizes the kind of shit Buffy had to go through in school extend beyond a tiff on the basketball court, and it makes the guilt hang that much heavier on him. _A black teenage girl playing on a mostly all-white male basketball team. And she still had the guts to stand up to me, despite it all._ No wonder Cyrus thought he was a dick before. No wonder _everybody_ was afraid of him. 

"Kind of." He mumbles, picking at a hang-nail on his thumb. "Can't control it, at any rate."

"Okay, let's see then..." She props up a leg and rests her elbow on her knee. "So it's something you can't control, it's bothering you, and something happened regarding it to make you feel like this." She purses her lips, before saying the rest. "...And you reacted oddly when I suggested getting Cyrus to come and help you. Does it have something to do with him?"

He can't look at her anymore. "Mm."

Then, she says it. The million-dollar answer. "Did... someone say something _about_ you and Cyrus?"

T.J can just feel his skin getting paler, as he tightens the ball he's made himself into. He doesn't even want to hazard a guess at the look on Driscoll's face right now. He swallows, clenches his fists, and says, "I don't want people clocking me before I say anything."

He hears Buffy's breathing stutter. 

"Reed... made a comment. Didn't mean anything by it, but it stung. Am I _that_ obvious, Driscoll?" 

"I... can't say from an outsider's perspective, T.J. I know you and Cyrus pretty well already, so I got the hint at his Grandmother's Shiva." She pauses before he feels Buffy's warm hand comes back onto his shoulder. "T.J, please don't take this the wrong way, but... Cyrus told me before that Reed teased you about him, you never reacted like this. But being _obvious_ about it, being clocked, you've never mentioned anything like this until now... did something else happen?" 

Oh, Driscoll, how shall he find the words. 

_(So you'd rather do a costume with_ Cyrus _instead of me. Okay, have fun with that,_ she said, with a wry grin and eyes rolling when he spoke of Cyrus the first time. 

_I'm over here,_ she dug under his skin, when he dared to watch Cyrus leave after having not seen him for days. 

_If I made you pick. Me, or Cyrus. You'd pick Cyrus._ With her expectant eyes, as if he's still bowing to her every whim.)

They whir around his head, left him sleepless and in denial of what she was insinuating, and at the end of it all, the fears that his family would know, his friends, his _bullies,_ and... Cyrus would find out, and like everything else that's good, he'd ruin it. The basketball team, his classmates, he's _seen_ what prying eyes and judgemental stares do to people, and so top that off with his name and learning disability... 

The rim around his eyes goes red, as he ignores the sting. 

There's a lot of words, really. He's only got one.

"Kira."

Buffy's hand tenses on his shoulder. "She clocked you?"

T.J nods.

"Is _that_ why you were always hanging around her? Because you were scared she'd out you?"

"Kind of." He mumbles, ripping the nail off. "Thought if I befriended her, she'd find a good reason not to. She wasn't always bad."

"That's bad _enough,_ T.J." T.J raises his head to finally look at her, and Buffy's face is one of pure _fury._ She takes her hand away from his shoulder and raises her shoulders; she's seething through her nose, her cheeks going red. "It's one thing to have a grudge against me for kicking her off the team, but to threaten to _out_ someone just so you'd, what, put her on your basketball team? To make you feel like _this?_ I am going to fucking **kill** her."

T.J laughs, wiping under his eye. "Pour water on her. She'd probably melt."

Her anger subsides a little when she sees T.J's looking at her, and she manages a half-smile back. "We're already going through a water crisis. Better not poison it."

As she laughs in return, very slowly, T.J untangles himself from the ball he's curled himself into. He lets his legs rest out on the grass, lets his arms down by his side, and leans his head against the wall as he looks up. The sky looks a little blurry as if the clouds are mixing with sunlight on a palette board, but the wind whistling in his ears is calming enough. 

He covers his eyes with his hand. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"She made me feel like shit."

"I know." Buffy leans her head on his shoulder. The basketball rolls a little way from them, bordering at his feet and her bag. "But you're okay, no matter what she says. You just love a lot, and sometimes it spills over. Nothing wrong with that, even if you are lousy at basketball."

He chuckles under his breath, still covering his eyes with his hand. T.J swallows.

"It's okay, isn't it?"

"Mm?"

"That... I'm like this."

"Like what?"

"Gay." 

Buffy stills against his shoulder. "Yeah," she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. "It's always been okay."

-

 **Reed (17:14)**  
_sorry, dude_  
_didn't realize what a big deal this was. shouldn't have joked about it._  
_it's okay though, you know that right?  
_ _it's six and a half dozen to me._

_-_

* * *

_Deleted Scene #2  
_Shoreline (Andi paints Amber's portrait)

-

"Give me a holler when you need picking up, okay?"

Amber nearly _slams_ the car door, going over to the driver's side and glaring at her driver. "Never, _ever_ say the word 'holler' again. It's almost as bad as the time you unironically used the word 'niceberg' and said 'LOL' out loud."

T.J just smirks at her, leaning his arm on the open window. "You're just mad because I can pull off Gen-Z slang verbally."

"No, _Thelonius,_ you really can't."

At least T.J didn't hide the sudden flush that erupted on his face. He tugged on her ear and hissed, " _quiet,_ you."

"Then watch your dumb slang around me. You're offending my ears." Amber simply plucks T.J's arm off of her and put it back in the car, before smiling at him. "Now, shove off. You're meeting Cyrus today at the library, right? You don't want to be late."

The flush on his face doesn't falter, but he does smile rather bashfully. " _And_ Buffy and Marty for burgers after."

"Right. Because you're so excited to see those two as well. I'm sure _they_ were the reason you spent three hours choosing what shirt to wear."

"Don't you dare start--"

" _And_ screaming down the phone to Jonah about it earlier?"

" _I'm leaving._ "

T.J doesn't even bother waiting for Amber to reply when he turns the key in the ignition, scowling at her until he drives off. Amber, in turn, merely bids him a sugary-sweet farewell with a smile and a wave, watching him go with a sense of triumph. Sometimes, it really did feel like T.J was her little brother, not her cousin. With her Dad now working with her Uncle again, it meant that she got a personal chauffeur out of it. Not a bad trade, despite the annoying personality that was tacked onto the driver. 

Amber put her hands on her hips and sighs, before making her way to the boardwalk, taking off her cowboy boots before setting foot on the sand. She already sees Andi a little further down, perching on the edge snapping photographs of (what she presumes to be) floating driftwood. Andi's dipping her toes in the water and surrounded by scraps of paper pinned down with shoes, erasers, and pencil tins, and Amber smiles; _she hasn't changed_.

"Andi!" 

The said girl looks up, and that's when Amber breaks into a half-jog. Andi raises her arm into a wave, standing up the moment Amber reaches where she's sitting. 

"Hey!" She greets, face flushing from the sea air. "You made it!" 

"Wouldn't miss it, Bambi." Amber holds up a small bag. "And I brought the emergency supplies."

Andi's eyes practically _sparkle._ "T.J made banana bread?!"

"With love from the better side of the family, he said. Cocky fucker." Amber rolls her eyes whilst Andi practically drools at the mouth. "Sappy shit adores you, did you know that? He doesn't even make it for his own _mother_."

"What can I say? We bonded."

"By conveniently breaking into the local museum after the art exhibit was over on the _same night?"_

" _Bonded,_ Amber."

Amber chuckles to herself, taking a seat with Andi joining her. It doesn't take long for the girl to hungrily bite into her own private loaf (T.J _refused_ for Amber to let Andi share only one), practically humming to herself as she savours the taste on her tongue. Ever since Cyrus and T.J became practically inseparable over the summer, T.J and Andi had developed a rather odd bond with one another; T.J often went over to jam with Bowie and Jonah, and the lack of experience on guitar had caused him to gravitate towards Andi's little art studio.

From there, _chaos_ ensued. It may have only been three weeks, but they'd both already been in trouble for midnight trysts of spraypainting graffiti flowers on alley walls near local children's hospitals, as well as breaking into the local planetarium _and_ art exhibits. It would be endearing if Amber wasn't so terrified of what they could do together. She was concerned about poor Cece's health.

" _Man,_ that was worth it."

Amber blinks out of her thoughts, staring at Andi's now-empty hands. "Did you finish that _already?!"_

"What can I say?" She shrugs. "T.J is a mean baker." 

Amber's mouth gapes, before sliding a plastic cup to her. "Here," she says. "Last free milkshake, courtesy of the Spoon."

"What do you mean, _last?"_

Amber puffs up her chest and grins. "You're officially looking at the now-formeremployee of the Spoon Diner." 

"You quit?" Andi says, surprised. 

"Mm. Dad said it would be best." Looking down, Amber bites back a smile. "He got a new job working with my uncle for a while, to tide things over until he finds a place closer to the main city. With the extra cash flow, as well as my Dad and I moving in there for the meantime, it means I don't have to work the extra hours. So, I'm looking around for something that really _speaks_ to me, you know?"

Andi sips her milkshake, nodding at Amber. "I understand." She takes the straw out of her mouth. "Like I did with SAVA."

Amber forces herself to purse her lips at that and nods with a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah." 

The conversation gets lost a little; there's a myriad of colours on the horizon mixing with the smoky sunset, almost as if someone's spilt rainbow chalk shavings into a red ocean. Everything's golden in hue until it hits the sea, and everything's shimmering with purple and pink and hints of cyan, and stretching into the water, Amber swears she can almost see coral reefs rising up next to the ocean life. She listens to Andi's pencils hit the paper with delicate timing, the lapping of ocean waves tickling her bare toes as they dip into the water, and though her phone may have buzzed with millions of InstaPic notifications, she doesn't _care._

And like Andi and T.J with SAVA; like Cyrus with loving; like Buffy with basketball; she realises that just _being_ is an identity in itself, and embracing _herself_ without jumping into romance after romance isn't just freeing; it's healing _,_ it's soothing, it's still _living._

Her hair falls over her shoulder as she gazes over at Andi. 

_Once, I hated her. I despised her. I wanted to **be** her. And she still... doesn't hate me. _

Sometimes, she's not sure how this came about. However it did, she never wants to let this go. 

"What are you drawing?" She asks softly, putting her hand on the boardwalk to get a closer look. There's a little surprise when Andi draws back with a small flinch, a slight red hue coming to her cheeks. "What? What is it?"

"It's..." She frowns, determined about something. "It's not finished, yet. You can see it when it's done."

"Okay?" 

"Just--" Andi waves her pencil around without a care. "Just keep talking about something. Look the other way and talk to me. Like..." Her tongue clicks. "Was that T.J dropping you off?"

Amber lets Andi have her quirky little way, and looks back to the ocean. "Yeah, it was. Poor guy's been nervous about meeting Cy up the library all day."

"So, him too?" Amber quirks a brow. "What, you don't think Cyrus, Mr ' _Overprepared_ ' hasn't been worrying about this either? I've not seen him this chaotic since T.J's little trial at student court." Andi pauses, lifting her head up. "For the love of everything, please never let Cyrus become a lawyer."

"I make no promises."

Andi sighs, brushing some loose pencil shavings off of her sketchbook. "I don't blame them for being nervous. I mean, Cyrus' last relationship wasn't one he was fully into and T.J... I don't know, still seems like he's coming into accepting who he is?" She switches pencil for a pen and begins loosely lining out some of the sketches. "I know that stuff can be hard."

"You do, huh?" Amber twiddles her thumbs, looking back a little. "How come?"

"Eh, my Dad's... what did he call it. Pansexual?" Andi shrugs. "Wrote a song about a guy he had a romantic getaway with during the years apart from Mom." 

Amber's shoulders went lax. "Oh."

"...Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No." She tucks her hair behind her ears. "It's just--you almost sounded like you were talking from personal experience."

"I'm fifteen, Amber. Plenty of time to figure out who I like that _isn't_ Jonah." Andi doesn't quite laugh at the quip and instead nods to herself. "I'm in a good place right now. I feel like I'm somewhere that, if it is my sexuality that's the next big thing to hit me as being _unexpected,_ it doesn't scare me." Andi pauses. "I wish it had been like that for Cyrus. And T.J."

"...Maybe one day, it will be."

In the distance, the seabirds begin to sing as the sun starts to set beyond the horizon. The night air means cold breezes begin to look for warmth, crawling into the skin of anyone who dares linger on the shore past witching hours. 

"Okay!" Andi grins at the finished piece, dusting her hand free of loose pencil shavings. "I'm all done! Want to take a look?"

Amber laughs to herself. "Sure." She scoots on over next to Andi, letting their milkshake containers and crumbs of banana bread become forgotten as she looks at the canvas. "So, Miss Mack, what did you draw this time?"

There's a familiar grin playing on Andi's lips. "Take a look."

When Amber lays eyes on it, the night air steals away her breath from her lungs and leaves her without words. It's sketchy, perhaps a little rushed, but the figure sat on the paper-sketched boardwalk is very clearly _her._ There's fine attention to detail of her eyes and hair, little wisps of silver amongst the golden mop of hair that's tussled by the sea breeze. Her hair mixes in with the sunshine above her, rainbow cascades down her arms and little white-inked constellations wink in both the sea and in her eyes. 

"Andi... is this meant to be _me?"_ She says, voice croaking. 

Once again, the Mack girl shrugs. "I live in the moment. You just... captured it best." She then tears out the page and hands it to her. "Do you like it?"

"I..." Amber bites her lip. "I love it."

"Narcissist." 

Amber playfully bats Andi's shoulder, making sure to keep the drawing in safe hands. 

_Maybe one day, it will be._


End file.
